Operation B3: GO!
Raising girls and boys are amazingly different and I’m lucky to have the opportunity to experience this. For example, Lucy slept through the night at 8 weeks old. We sat down, we
discussed the importance of a schedule and that mommy really needed at least 6 hours of sleep. Lucy reflected on this issue, agreed with the idea that she would be better served by a rested mother and instantly started sleeping through the night. This is raising a girl, or perhaps it is because she is the eldest. Max, on the other hand, had no regard for my lack of sleep. As a matter of fact he thought it was rather selfish of me to even request such a silly thing when it was obvious that he was both hungry and had no 
desire to be alone in the middle of the night. This is Max, flagrant disregard for rules, social conventions and a zest for life that can only best be displayed by his painting escapades documented in the previous post. And I wouldn’t want them any other way. Lucy reminds Max of the rules and Max shows Lucy that sometimes it’s fun to draw outside of the lines.
And yet, something has been missing. Somebody is not here. Its like when you sit down at the dinner table and the empty chair is a reminder of an absent person. David and I have an empty chair in our house.
So, about two months ago I peed on the stick of pregnancy fate and it came up positive. Yes Internet, I have returned to the serving counter of babies and said “Yes Sir, may I please have another?” I’m scared. I’m excited. I’m scared. It’s funny how with your first baby you are scared of child-birth. With your second baby you are too ignorant to be scared, but by your third you’re scared of that first year of life. That first year that is marked by not sleeping, a baby that seems to cry for no reason, and carrying enough supplies with you no matter where you go to exist on a small deserted island for at least a month. And at 38 that seems like a really daunting obstacle. And I knew all that when I decided to stop taking the pill. That is the power of being a mother. As women we voluntarily jump into 9 months of feeling terrible, followed by a year of not sleeping and a life-time commitment of worry and devotion. We can’t help ourselves, it’s like a crack addiction.
So Internet, if my posting is late it is because I’m busy trying not to throw-up. If my posts are angry it is because I have enough hormones in me to kill a horse. Welcome to, “Pregnancy: Operation B3″
Deep Breath
I so wanted to collapse into the fetal position and go into a full panic attack when I checked in on the kids painting. I remained relatively calm and ran a bath.
The kids experiment with creative expression from Beth Morley on Vimeo.
Memorial Day 2008
Memorial Day was spent at the family lake house this past weekend. The focus of going to the lake house, of course, is the lake. I’m not one for swimming in a lake. Did you know that there is DIRT on the bottom? and FISH swim in there? and BUGS? All of which are things that you don’t find in a pool and somehow lessen the swimming experience for me.
Visiting the lake house almost always follows the same pattern. We spend the first day trying to get the whole family swimming in the lake and somebody ends up crying through almost all of it. This time it was Max. He would have NOTHING to do with the water, which provided me with the perfect excuse not to swim. Lucy LOVED swimming the first day and by bed time she was lamenting the fact that we wouldn’t let her swim any more until tomorrow. On the second day, the sun rose on a different Lucy who was TERRIFIED of the water because it was DIRTY!! That didn’t mean she didn’t want to wear her bathing suit all day, because she did. She just didn’t want to actually do any bathing in it.
Lake house weekends almost always include a large home improvement project. This weekend was no different. The “Man-Folk” were required to fix the boat dock which had fallen into the lake. I wish I could properly describe the visual of 4 WHITE urban professionals trying to fix the dock in the lake. I can’t, so instead I will just refer you to the video.
Fixing the Dock, Memorial Day 2008 from David Morley on Vimeo.
The most important things about lake house weekends though are spending time with family. From the time I was a little girl I wanted a big family and I am so blessed to have married into one. The time we spend laughing, playing, eating and talking are priceless. David refers to the lake house as his “church” and in many ways it is a sanctuary of love and togetherness.
